Compassion & Happiness: The Invisible Kinship
Strange as it may seem, compassion and happiness are intimate kins. Strange because suffering, not happiness, is often the first thing that comes to mind when one thinks about compassion. And while it is common sense that the recipient of compassion is likely to feel happiness, we do not generally associate happiness with the giver of compassion. But contrary to such popular sentiments, happiness is a natural consequence of compassion, for both the receiver and the giver. Intrigued? Allow me then to explain why happiness is a natural consequence of compassion, by beginning with death.
In as much as death is a fact of life from which no one is exempt, so too is emotional pain (pain, for short). And it is this universal vulnerability to pain which powers our capacity to relate to others. But what is the purpose of pain to begin with? Let me propose that pain exists for the precise purpose of bringing about happiness, because pain is a signal that something we need for our flourishing is missing. It is also equally the case that our capacity to feel pain (both our own and that of others) is precisely that which endows us with the ability to feel joy.
Before unpacking what this means, let’s first agree that we are not going to try to “define” what (true) happiness is. Not only is it quite impossible, it is also quite unnecessary. Whether (or not) happiness is defined, is completely irrelevant to whether (or not) you feel happy. The truth of happiness is something that can only be felt in our (individual) bodies. At best, we may only try to describe the sensation it evokes. With this said, let’s turn our attention back to pain.
I find it helpful to liken pain to hunger, i.e. in much the same way that hunger is a signal that our body is deprived of food, pain is a signal that our soul is deprived of needs. Therefore, in much the same way that our body flourishes when it is properly nourished with food, so too our soul flourishes when it its need for belonging, or respect, or creativity, or safety, or contribution etc. is nourished. And just as chronic hunger deforms the body, chronic unmet needs deform the soul.
In the presence of pain, both our own and that of another, all humans respond in exactly the same way, i.e. we pay attention. What happens next varies from taking action to stop / lessen the pain, ignoring the pain, or “enjoying” the pain. Yes, enjoying. Because pain is a very potent energy that makes us feel very much alive, whence all our senses are in hyperdrive. Strange as it may seem, there are some who thrive on this kind of energy. Why? Perhaps because, simply, it feels good to be “alive”. For Life wants to be.
But it is a very expensive way to feel “alive”, because the price is happiness.
Pain is the kind of energy that is entirely, and exclusively, self-focussed. Compassion, on the other hand, is the kind of energy that is entirely other-focussed, whilst being an equally potent energy that makes both the giver and receiver feel very much alive. This is because making room for others in our heart contributes to the collective energy of life which sustains us all. Another way of approaching this idea of interconnectedness is the Arabic concept of ممنون (often latinised as either memnoon or mamnoon), which may be understood as “the request which blesses the one who is asked”.
Why request? Because if your heart can feel the pain of the other person, it is perhaps because you are someone who understands, and can do something about it. In other words, you have been invited to contribute to the flourishing of the collective life force by alleviating another person’s pain. Why blessing? Because one of our greatest human need is the need to contribute, to be of service, to matter. In other words, I am being given a gift when asked to contribute. This takes a moment to sink in. It’s like someone saying, “will you do me a favour and take the day off to take care of yourself?”
And yes, I am saying that compassion is only compassion when the help is offered in the spirit of mamnoon. This is to say that when the alleviation of another person’s pain is done out of guilt, fear, or shame, it often comes with a hefty price tag, i.e. when I exercise compassion because I “should”, chances are that I am, in fact, not “happy” to contribute. Not only is this a life detracting energy, it may even plant the seeds for future discord and pain. This applies to both instances of reactive compassion (the activation of our compassionate instinct when triggered by an external adverse event, and then goes back to sleep once the adverse event is over), and compassion as one’s default way of being.
Naturally, there are situations in life when feeling another person’s pain, and being invited to do something, triggers my own pain such as anger, resentment, or pity. This is where I find it helpful to consider the Chinese concept of wú wéi (無爲), which roughly translates as non-action, as a right response. In other words, putting wú wéi into action vis-à-vis the other person’s pain means that I may have to first take care of my own pain, my own needs, before I am able to offer compassion in the spirit of mamnoon. This is to say that practising wú wéi when we are unable to offer compassion to another human being in the spirit of mamnoon, is to practice self-compassion.
This is also to say that the practise of compassion begins with self-compassion. Not only is knowing how to tend to one’s own pain fundamental to the practice of compassion, it is also the only way to ensure that the practice of compassion is a sustainable source of happiness for both parties. Happiness precisely because the alleviation of another person’s pain (hence the fulfilment of their soul needs) invariably includes the alleviation of our own pain (and the fulfilment of our soul needs). For it seems, as suggested by recent scientific discoveries, that humans are evolutionarily wired for compassion via biological mechanisms such as mirror neurons which enable humans to feel what their fellow human beings feel.
This may also suggest that when I practice self-compassion, I make it possible for others to mirror my compassionate energy. If there is any truth in this extrapolation, how we individually practise compassion on ourselves can potentially influence how others experience compassion for themselves. Therefore, it further suggests that practising self-compassion can catalyse a mutually reinforcing feedback loop which enables us to (collectively) move from reactive compassion (i.e., reactive happiness) to cultivating compassion as one’s default way of being (i.e., sustaining happiness).
In conclusion, I would like to extend an invitation for you to pay tender attention in the coming days, weeks, months to the people and events in your life to see whether what I’ve shared bears out for you. Try experimenting with applying mamnoon (ممنون) and wú wéi (無爲) in your daily interactions with people, and use the experimenting as opportunities to reflect on your own needs. You may also wish to read the <The Book of Joy> by the Dalai Lama and Desmond Tutu, and/or listen to the podcast <Nonviolent Communication> by Dr. Marshall Rosenberg, and/or engage in conversations with those you regard to have consistently displayed compassionate behaviours, and/or drop me an email at [email protected] to satisfy your curiosities about how compassion and happiness are intimately intertwined.
As you return to your daily routine, I wish you and your loved ones, joy, peace, and health.
Strange as it may seem, compassion and happiness are intimate kins. Strange because suffering, not happiness, is often the first thing that comes to mind when one thinks about compassion. And while it is common sense that the recipient of compassion is likely to feel happiness, we do not generally associate happiness with the giver of compassion. But contrary to such popular sentiments, happiness is a natural consequence of compassion, for both the receiver and the giver. Intrigued? Allow me then to explain why happiness is a natural consequence of compassion, by beginning with death.
In as much as death is a fact of life from which no one is exempt, so too is emotional pain (pain, for short). And it is this universal vulnerability to pain which powers our capacity to relate to others. But what is the purpose of pain to begin with? Let me propose that pain exists for the precise purpose of bringing about happiness, because pain is a signal that something we need for our flourishing is missing. It is also equally the case that our capacity to feel pain (both our own and that of others) is precisely that which endows us with the ability to feel joy.
Before unpacking what this means, let’s first agree that we are not going to try to “define” what (true) happiness is. Not only is it quite impossible, it is also quite unnecessary. Whether (or not) happiness is defined, is completely irrelevant to whether (or not) you feel happy. The truth of happiness is something that can only be felt in our (individual) bodies. At best, we may only try to describe the sensation it evokes. With this said, let’s turn our attention back to pain.
I find it helpful to liken pain to hunger, i.e. in much the same way that hunger is a signal that our body is deprived of food, pain is a signal that our soul is deprived of needs. Therefore, in much the same way that our body flourishes when it is properly nourished with food, so too our soul flourishes when it its need for belonging, or respect, or creativity, or safety, or contribution etc. is nourished. And just as chronic hunger deforms the body, chronic unmet needs deform the soul.
In the presence of pain, both our own and that of another, all humans respond in exactly the same way, i.e. we pay attention. What happens next varies from taking action to stop / lessen the pain, ignoring the pain, or “enjoying” the pain. Yes, enjoying. Because pain is a very potent energy that makes us feel very much alive, whence all our senses are in hyperdrive. Strange as it may seem, there are some who thrive on this kind of energy. Why? Perhaps because, simply, it feels good to be “alive”. For Life wants to be.
But it is a very expensive way to feel “alive”, because the price is happiness.
Pain is the kind of energy that is entirely, and exclusively, self-focussed. Compassion, on the other hand, is the kind of energy that is entirely other-focussed, whilst being an equally potent energy that makes both the giver and receiver feel very much alive. This is because making room for others in our heart contributes to the collective energy of life which sustains us all. Another way of approaching this idea of interconnectedness is the Arabic concept of ممنون (often latinised as either memnoon or mamnoon), which may be understood as “the request which blesses the one who is asked”.
Why request? Because if your heart can feel the pain of the other person, it is perhaps because you are someone who understands, and can do something about it. In other words, you have been invited to contribute to the flourishing of the collective life force by alleviating another person’s pain. Why blessing? Because one of our greatest human need is the need to contribute, to be of service, to matter. In other words, I am being given a gift when asked to contribute. This takes a moment to sink in. It’s like someone saying, “will you do me a favour and take the day off to take care of yourself?”
And yes, I am saying that compassion is only compassion when the help is offered in the spirit of mamnoon. This is to say that when the alleviation of another person’s pain is done out of guilt, fear, or shame, it often comes with a hefty price tag, i.e. when I exercise compassion because I “should”, chances are that I am, in fact, not “happy” to contribute. Not only is this a life detracting energy, it may even plant the seeds for future discord and pain. This applies to both instances of reactive compassion (the activation of our compassionate instinct when triggered by an external adverse event, and then goes back to sleep once the adverse event is over), and compassion as one’s default way of being.
Naturally, there are situations in life when feeling another person’s pain, and being invited to do something, triggers my own pain such as anger, resentment, or pity. This is where I find it helpful to consider the Chinese concept of wú wéi (無爲), which roughly translates as non-action, as a right response. In other words, putting wú wéi into action vis-à-vis the other person’s pain means that I may have to first take care of my own pain, my own needs, before I am able to offer compassion in the spirit of mamnoon. This is to say that practising wú wéi when we are unable to offer compassion to another human being in the spirit of mamnoon, is to practice self-compassion.
This is also to say that the practise of compassion begins with self-compassion. Not only is knowing how to tend to one’s own pain fundamental to the practice of compassion, it is also the only way to ensure that the practice of compassion is a sustainable source of happiness for both parties. Happiness precisely because the alleviation of another person’s pain (hence the fulfilment of their soul needs) invariably includes the alleviation of our own pain (and the fulfilment of our soul needs). For it seems, as suggested by recent scientific discoveries, that humans are evolutionarily wired for compassion via biological mechanisms such as mirror neurons which enable humans to feel what their fellow human beings feel.
This may also suggest that when I practice self-compassion, I make it possible for others to mirror my compassionate energy. If there is any truth in this extrapolation, how we individually practise compassion on ourselves can potentially influence how others experience compassion for themselves. Therefore, it further suggests that practising self-compassion can catalyse a mutually reinforcing feedback loop which enables us to (collectively) move from reactive compassion (i.e., reactive happiness) to cultivating compassion as one’s default way of being (i.e., sustaining happiness).
In conclusion, I would like to extend an invitation for you to pay tender attention in the coming days, weeks, months to the people and events in your life to see whether what I’ve shared bears out for you. Try experimenting with applying mamnoon (ممنون) and wú wéi (無爲) in your daily interactions with people, and use the experimenting as opportunities to reflect on your own needs. You may also wish to read the <The Book of Joy> by the Dalai Lama and Desmond Tutu, and/or listen to the podcast <Nonviolent Communication> by Dr. Marshall Rosenberg, and/or engage in conversations with those you regard to have consistently displayed compassionate behaviours, and/or drop me an email at [email protected] to satisfy your curiosities about how compassion and happiness are intimately intertwined.
As you return to your daily routine, I wish you and your loved ones, joy, peace, and health.